


Is It My Body?

by HeavyMetalRunner



Series: The Absurd Marriage of Starscream and Megatron [3]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 23:31:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1204570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavyMetalRunner/pseuds/HeavyMetalRunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream and Megatron finally have the same night off, so Starscream drags Megatron to his favorite club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It My Body?

 

Megatron caught another scumbolt staring at Starscream. It was quite asinine, with the way Starscream was standing between _his_ legs and leaning against _his_ chest, it was obvious he was _his_ lover.

And the stupid bots who kept staring at him weren't anywhere near Megatron's size—they should be terrified of him. Megatron shot the latest contender a deathly glare and the moron wised up enough to scamper off.

Unlike Starscream, Megatron didn't like to get knocked off his aft and onto his face from excess oil on his nights off work, so he was unused to this type of scene. If Starscream came here every night alone, or with his friend Knock Out, he probably got this sort of attention even more so. Maybe bots even came over to chat him up.

The very thought made Megatron see red. It seems Starscream has been living some party life unbeknownst to Megatron—and frankly, it made him feel like a fool—an _old_ fool.

An overworked-looking bot slung himself into the seat next to them. When he noticed Starscream he gave him an appreciative smile, so Megatron made sure to glower over Starscream's pointy little head. His spouse, of course, obliviously sipped his latest oil helping and hardly payed their new neighbor any notice—giving a polite nod at the offered smile.

As Starscream took a break from siphoning high-grade into his bottomless pit, he leaned further against Megatron and let his head fall back unto his mate.

Shamefully Megatron realized this gave him a distinct feeling of pride. He actually _wanted_ people to see him with...dare he even think—an armful of eye-candy.

Slag it all, they'd been married for so long he'd forgotten just how attractive the little fragger was. And damn, he was feeling smug about it too. Perhaps he could blame it on the oil?

Or he could comfort himself by thinking about how disappointed all the would-be suitors would be to find out that Starscream's mannerisms weren't anywhere near as sweet as his frame.

Although, if they were thinking he was a horny bot, they would not be at all disappointed. Starscream too thought himself exceptionally attractive and was not at all stingy about sharing his 'perfection'. Those idiots wouldn't be able to handle him, Megatron decided. Even if they could satisfy Starscream's notably frequent neediness, they would inevitably end up boring him with their fawning.

Megatron had never once acted as though it were even possible that the two of them weren't in the same league—and if anything Megatron was out of _his_ league _._ Clearly this aloofness seduced Starscream more than any drooling adulation ever would.

“I can _feel_ your smugness.” Starscream interrupted his thoughts.

How was it that Starscream _always_ knew what was going on in his head? It just wasn't fair. Megatron huffed, “that isn't even possible.”

Starscream turned in his arms. “It is with you my dear. I can feel your chest swelling with the weight of your ego.”

Megatron scoffed and pet his cheek, “you wax a bit poetical when you're wasted huh?”

“Oh, then you ought to like me overcharged.” He put his hands around Megatron's waist—his favorite place to touch—and felt the shape of his strong curves.

Starscream yawned as he lazily felt Megatron up— _in public_. This behavior was not at all becoming for either of them, old as they were.

Megatron rubbed his back, “tired?”

Starscream shook his head enthusiastically, “no, I haven't even danced yet!”

Megatron balked, “I'm _not_ dancing!”

Starscream's eyebrow twitched. “Everyone in this room has just breathed a sigh of relief and they don't even know why.”

Megatron hated indulging Starscream, but there was no fighting the grin that forced itself unto his face—the little scrap _was_ impressively witty. He pushed Starscream away from him. “Go ahead and make a fool of yourself. But stay where I can see you—I don't trust these lecherous debauchees.”

“Hey! I _am_ one of these lecherous debauchees.” He purred, caressing Megatron's thigh.

Megatron brushed away his hand, “go get _dancing_ out of your system so we can leave while I'm still young.”

“I'm afraid, then, that we were already too late when we arrived here,” he slurred as he swayed to the dance floor.

Megatron considered kicking him, but figured being seen knocking his inebriated, and much smaller, spouse on his face would bring as much trouble as satisfaction.

He sat back and prepared to enjoy the show. One would think with Starscream's lithe and attractive body he would make an alluring dancer—but that one would be quite wrong.

Starscream's favorite type of dancing was the style from his youth—all those many, many thousands of years ago. It was a celebratory and individualistic type of dancing that involved jumping, stretching, twisting and at many points enthusiastic flailing about.

It was the sort of dance often performed by bots painted in mixtures of very bright neon colors and accompanied by equally bright oscillation-heavy music.

Megatron was very grateful that Starscream had dropped the neon for more sophisticated color schemes—even if he does change his paint every other year—and traded the pop music for the beautiful Operas of Vos. Although it became clear that he still needed his nostalgia fix on his nights off, and that he clearly didn't care what any of the trend followers thought of his goofy dancing—while he flailed in joy they worried about whether or not they looked attractive. Starscream never cared what others thought of him, in his mind he was fantastic and if others didn't see that it was because they had a problem and were just _wrong._ As narcissistic as it may seem, it endeared him to Megatron.

He really was a fun bot. When they'd first started dating Megatron discovered Starscream was actually rather sweet once you got past his standoffish front. Such intelligence and an outgoing personality teamed with fantastic beauty—Megatron hadn't stood a chance.

And here in this club, the sort of place he hated, watching his beautiful mate dance like a hyperactive toddler, he was emphatically grateful that Starscream had won him over so completely.

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason Megatron seems to be a grumpy old man in my mind. And Starscream seems to be one of those old(er) ladies who still like to dance, and dress up, and play the music from their youth. Think Cyndi Lauper today. Wait, why did I automatically go with "ladies"? OMG! He could be like David Bowie too. Lol. I was just thinking of him being like Cyndi.


End file.
